


Empires Fall In Just One Day

by scottmchungup



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, and also one of our faves from tmi insert sad finger guns here, yike this will be the death of me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9798719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottmchungup/pseuds/scottmchungup
Summary: Mortality is simple, it is the mortals that are complex.Join Rafael & Max Lightwood-Bane as they experience adventure, grief, love, loss, and everything in between.Set years after Shadowhunter Academy, with varying POVs.





	1. prologue

A/N: hello angels and welcome to my fic!! So if you've known me for a while you'll know I used this title for a long since orphaned fic so I reduced, reused and recycled that shit and here we are! This is a future fic that follows our fav Lightwood-Bane kiddos and undeniably gets hella sad in chapters to come. Hello angst my old friend. Otherwise, enjoy! 

prologue:

 

Rafael Lightwood-Bane had a confusing relationship with the New York Institute. He loved it---- with it's great wide walls that seemed to hold the history of it like a secret, and the training room that Rafe had spent countless hours in. The kitchen was home to many disastrous attempts on both his part, and his cousin's, and Rafael could distinctly remember crying from laughing so hard one time in the library. Every room here held some small part of him, but even still there had always been something missing. Something that made his stay at the institute that less colorful. And that color was blue. 

Max, his brother and best friend, was a warlock. And not like Tessa, who was a good friend of his dad's and who could pass easily as a mundane or someone on the verge of ascending, but a warlock who looked as they did in the textbooks. Although in truth, Rafael hated the Codex's description, as both his father and his brother could never be described in such clinical terms. 

Being a warlock Max was not considered a permanent resident. He would come often enough that a room was sanctioned off for him, and his presence not peculiar to it's tenants, but on day's like today, when the envoys from the Clave were visiting, he was noticeably absent. It was archaic really, but taking it up with the heads of the New York Institute----Clary and Jace Herondale, would have to wait for another time. 

As of now, the younger version of his other aunt was marching up to him with fury in her every step. She gave Rafael a short, curt nod that meant 'let's talk' and together they entered the library on his right. Rafe pushed up so that he could sit on one of the rickety old desks, his legs dangling in front of him, and his hands folded neatly in his lap as he waited for what was sure to be an explosion from his cousin to come. She was pacing in front of him, biting down on her lip, and balling and un-balling her fists in a way that looked particularly mutinous. 

"He wants ME to apologize!" His cousin started, giving Rafael only a sparing look that preached of disbelief in her dark features. This outburst did nothing to stop her pacing, and although she had said a mere five words, Rafael could already piece together a story. Isabelle and Simon Lightwood-Lovelace had four children. Sam, who was fourteen, Matthew at fifteen, and Leah and Lucas who were seventeen year old twins. They were permanent residents of the Institute, and Leah, who was boiling over in front of him now, was easily one of his best friends. 

"I take it sparring with Lucas went about as well as everyone thought it would?" Rafael asked patiently, humor dancing on his every syllable. Leah was a rebel, there was no getting around that. She liked to push limits, do things others were afraid of, and was characterized by a great many people as being reckless. She would fight who she had to, but she was not solely focused on the fight----more so the righteousness of it. The same could not be said for her brother, however. Lucas didn't just like to fight, he loved it. He would fight with a brick wall if he could get it to speak, and his absolute favorite pass-time was getting a reaction out of his easy-to-set-off sister. His choice of weapons were words, and he knew just where the jugulars were in a conversation. 

"He just can't handle the fact that I'm GOOD at something he isn't! He knows wielding a Kindjal is my specialty and yet still he throws a tantrum every time I knock him on his ass! Honestly, we might as well start storing excess food in his skull if he's not going to use it to think!" She said exasperatedly, having stopped pacing and now stood with a raw buzz of anger in front of where Rafael sat. He could see the Kindjal were it sat idly on her belt now, and for a second he actually pitied Lucas for even daring to mess with Leah and her daggers. 

"Maybe he's just---" Rafe started, but was immediately cut off by Leah's voice again. "And it's like he has this prime directive to destroy any possibility of a good day you know? Like how Batman is obsessed with justice, Luke is obsessed with his own stupid insecurity! That's what it is, by the way. Insecurity in the fact that his sister doesn't need him to save her." She said passively, as if this was common knowledge. Her wild brown hair was sticking to her forehead with sweat, and her black shadowhunter gear looked a little worse for the wear, a sick crimson that Rafael noted to be blood on the cuff of her jacket. No, Raphael thought, Leah has never needed anyone to save her. "He's even started picking fights with Sam. She of course, doesn't even engage, just goes on in her little sunshine-y Sammy ways, but he's purposely taunting her! It's like a fucking Lightwood-Lovelace initiation: get driven crazy by Lucas! Two for one special if you've got a plus one!" She was breathless when she finished, and her porcelain face reddened from the anger she had clearly not disposed on her brother. When family came to mind, Rafael was loyal to the very end, but he did have to agree that Lucas could be a bit of an ass. Not to Rafe, because Rafe never gave him the satisfaction of letting him know he was getting to him, but to Max, who's well-being Rafael took infinitely more serious. Max was always so open with his emotions, making him perfect for a Lucas-shaped storm. But there was just one problem: nobody messes with Rafael's little brother. So yeah, he was a little biased in agreeing that Lucas was no angel among Nephilim. 

"Do you remember when I asked you to be my parabati?" Leah asked suddenly, surprising Rafael enough to pull him out of his own thoughts. He remembered the day vividly, actually, and how he'd so wanted to say yes to little fourteen year old Leah. But he'd thought of Max then, and he knew he could not make the vow with anyone other than his brother. He and Leah worked well together, in a fight and in a social setting but it was nothing like what he and Max had. Max was undoubtedly the other half of his soul, and even without a rune he knew that he and Max would protect each other till their dying breaths---or at least till Rafe's. If it came down to it, Rafael would always choose him, and thus could not betray the parabati oath by saying yes to someone decidedly less blue. Briefly he had thought about saying yes. About letting himself into that bond that his father and Jace had, but even picturing the look on Max's face if he told him would break Rafael's heart. Max's face could be read like a book when it came to thoughts and fears, and the rift between his world and his brother's was always something Max feared would separate them. Saying no had come easy, but felt horrible all the same. 

Magnus had sat Rafael down once, and explained the whole immortality deal. He'd said it with sad, pinched features and pointedly avoided mentioning Alec in too much detail, but Rafe had gotten the gist. In fifty years, Magnus and Max would look perpetually twenty. In seventy years Rafe would be nothing but a headstone, and yet still, Magnus and Max would thrive. He'd said it in a much softer way, but that had not lessened the punch it packed. What a burden it was, Rafe thought, that there would be a day when Max would think to himself 'what was the name of the brother I once had?', and as much as Max swore up and down that he'd never forget his family, Rafael still knew you couldn't hide from time. Hell, Alec looked well into his fourties now, and Magnus was as youthful as ever. Painful proof, if there ever was one. 

"Yes." He answered after a beat. "I remember you nearly decapitating me when I said I couldn't." Rafael responded, looking accusingly at Leah, which she brushed off with feigned ignorance. 

"Well you were being rude, Rafe! Anyway, where I was going with that is I think THAT is what Luke is missing you know? He sees my dad and Clary and how strong they are together, and he sees Jace and your dad, and he even sees me and you and I think he feels alone." She said simply, her dark eyebrows knitting together in a look that expressed both pity and confusion. "But I've tried to reach out to him, tried to let him know it's okay to love something and not have to fight about it----and yet still, he fights me on it at every turn! Think about it, he has everything! He has three siblings he could potentially get along with, war heroes for parents, and enough cousins to start a softball team! It's infuriating, and I am usually the level-headed one!" Rafael made an unsure noise at that, which earned him a particularly sour look from his cousin. 

"What I'm trying to say is I don't get him. Like how you and Max just KNOW what the other is thinking. He's my twin, aren't we supposed to have some telepathy or something?" With the strong look in her hard brown eyes, it was clear she wanted an answer, but Rafael was as close to understanding Lucas Lightwood-Lovelace as he was to flying. 

Rafael just shrugged, as if to say 'what can you do?'. Even he didn't fully understand how Max and he could be so in sync, considering they didn't even share a species, much less blood. It couldn't be explained, but it was real and there, and Rafael was fine just embracing it. 

"Call it magic." Rafael replied coyly. Leah paid little attention however, and had gone back to chewing on her lower lip. 

"You know they want to take the institute away from Clary and Jace?" Leah said, looking away meditatively. 

This startled Rafael immensely, considering his aunt and uncle had been running the institute since Max had been waddling around in diapers. "What?" Rafael asked incredulously. Take it away from Clary and Jace? Since the Mortal and Dark wars he was fairly certain the clave would let the pair and their children get away with setting the world on ablaze, if they asked it. All three of the Lightwood families lived here in some degree now, and they wanted to push out the ones steering the car? Who would replace them, Church? There were few others who had seniority over the pair, and even with seniority damned, who else had the credentials? 

"Yeah, I heard my mom and dad talking about it. Apparently the Clave is hard core pushing one of them to take the Inquisitor position, and I guess they figured ripping the institute out from under them would work." She rolled her eyes at this, hands going to her hips as another thought flashed before her eyes. 

"And did you know Luke even fought with my dad last night? My dad! Who is like... the biggest pacifist to ever... pacify. But Lucas is like a freaking warlock---except his magic comes in the form of enraging people beyond belief! Nothing cool like what Max can do, just hell for the rest of us." She threw her hands up then, as if this explosion could prove her point. "Can't Max like, shut him up with a spell or something? Nothing to grand, just a light cursing would do. Some ever-lasting duct tape on his mouth or something, I'm not picky" Leah asked, meeting Rafael's eyes dead-on. For as long as he'd known her, she'd always been passionate. There wasn't a thing in the world that couldn't spark the fire behind her eyes, and Rafael just thanked whoever was listening that she didn't use that fire to burn him. He laughed lightly then at the seriousness of her expression. In twenty minutes, she'd calm down, ask if he wanted to go spar, and they'd do this all again in a few days. He looked down at his phone then as it beeped, recognizing the alarm instantly. 

"Speaking of Maxie, I really must be going!" Rafael said, jumping off from his spot on the desk. Leah made an impatient noise, clearly insulted that Rafe did not want to stay and indulge her in her venting. But it was well past six, and Rafe had promised to meet Max down the street at a quarter past. He gave a parting wave to his cousin that was muttering something about disloyalty and began his walk. "And don't kill your brother while I'm having a family dinner. I hear murder in the first is a horrible dessert." 

"No promises!" She called after him, leaving him chuckling on his way out. 

But not even Leah's bickering could distract him now. The Clave wanted to take away the institute from Clary and Jace? What would that mean for their kids----Rafael's friends? What would it mean for Alec---who loved his parabati with his heart and soul, and would stop at the institute as if it were his second home? Surely the Clave couldn't just uproot the Herondale's without upsetting everyone in the consul who had power? Alec, Magnus, Izzy, Simon, even Maryse would surely back them up in their fight, right?

Rafael shook his head to clear his thoughts, trying to focus on the happy situation at hand instead. It did no good to fret about something that could wait till tomorrow. Magnus was just getting back from a business trip tonight, and today they'd be celebrating, as the Lightwood-Bane's did best. Max would be waiting for him a block from here, and from that Rafael would soon be reunited with his family that he had regrettably seen little from recently. He'd missed their presences sorely. 

Alec had been working nights and therefore could not make it to a lot of events at the institute anymore. Or at least that's what he said. As of late, Rafael could notice the subtle differences in his father, even as he tried to hide them. He was getting old, it was obvious in how slow he moved, and how often his joints ached. It was unusual for a shadowhunter to live long, and even if they did usually their health deteriorated quickly, and the great Alexander Lightwood was no exception. He groaned when he sat, and he coughed too deeply to be the epitome of health. It was obvious in the way Magnus fretted about him, and regardless of the painstakingly obvious, Alec refused to take a back seat to anything. His stubbornness could not be healthy, Rafe thought, but even he knew when to quit fighting a war you were losing. His father was a brilliant man, who still had years ahead of him, and quickly Rafael tried to hide his distress upon the sight of a familiar blue face beaming at him just down the street. 

They'd be alright. The Lightwood-Bane's were always alright.

A/N: So this is something of a prologue, I'm sorry for it's confusing-ness! The story popped into my head so I typed away and am still not 100% sure what is here. ANYWAY hopefully ch.2 will be up soon and I can say for sure that Major character death tag will be used soon :-( thanks for reading, let me know what you think! :-)


	2. last supper

The walk to the Brooklyn loft was uneventful other than Max's happy babbling. Max was one of those easy extroverts, where when his mouth was opened, words tumbled out of them, either correlated or unrelated to the words that preceded them. Usually people like that exasperated Rafael, considering who his dad was, also silent and observant unless he felt his voice needed to be heard. But considering who his other dad was, in a way it made sense that he found Max's rambling so enticing. Now he would be happy to sit on some dingy park bench and listen for hours to Max's stories about the newest spell he'd mastered, or the people he'd met. He was a born story-teller, animated and engaging at exactly the right times. Right now he was invested in a story about his pseudo-name, which he used sometimes to keep his dad's reputation out of his work in order to make an enterprise entirely his own. Usually this was reserved for shadowhunters who would have recognized the name 'Lightwood' as one of the famous four, and thus treated Max as a child and not a warlock. They had also decided that in public they couldn't call their parents 'dad'. It seemed incredibly unprofessional, and for someone like Max who's entire reputation was based on superiority and age, the right decision. Calling the High Warlock of Brooklyn 'dad' in a mediating discussion lost you immediate street cred, and resorted them back to their twelve year old selves despite being incredibly successful on their own. Since then their 'dads' had become just Alec and Magnus. 

They arrived at the loft just as ended his ramble, and started with a new story on this fey girl who had caused a scene at their last meeting. Upon Max unlocking and opening the door, he cut off just as Rafe could hear the sounds of his fathers from in the kitchen. 

"Magnus, I know you just magicked that, it's got the logo in the center..." Alec was saying comically, a light airiness to his voice that betrayed his false anger. As they entered the apartment, the view became clearer and suddenly Rafe was hit with a tidal wave of nostalgia. Max and he used to play 'shadowhunters & demons' on the same carpet they now walked as adults. Down the hall was the master bedroom where Max and he would fake nightmares just to get to sleep in the same bed as their dads. And in front of him was the kitchen where they used to sit for almost every meal----Alec frying, or cooking, or baking, and Magnus staring at him fondly with a coffee in hand, making sarcastic but loving remarks here and there. If Rafe had any artistic ability he would paint the scene from memory, but sadly his best creativity came in the form of attack plans. Call it the shadowhunter curse. 

"Darling, that 'MB' stands for Magnus Bane, not Marlene's Bakery----" He had turned then just enough to see his sons enter, "Look Alec, our sons have graced us with their presence!" Magnus said upon spotting them. His face broke out into one of impossibly loving smiles that Rafe knew to be exclusively dealt to a select few, and was within moments wrapping up first Magnus, then Alec in bone-crushing hugs. They'd seen each other last week, but the seven days separating their company had felt like forever. 

"I just heard there would be food, don't get too excited dad." Max joked, following Rafe's lead and hugging his dads tightly. Magnus looked as he always did----effortlessly whimsical, that slight but knowing glint in his gold-green eyes following his family with keen precision, and his mouth upturned at a permanent smile when he wasn't working. He looked slim in his black suit, wiry but not small. Magnus was known to be impossibly tall, and thus his build did not catch up with height, but maybe it was the 'dad' complex, or the 'war hero' stigma that made Magnus Lightwood-Bane always look larger than life. Ever since the day Rafael had moved in, he had not changed. Alec however...

Alec was not graying, per se, but age was definitely creeping up on him. He had crows feet around his vivid blue eyes where crows feet had not previously been, and he moved slower than Rafe remembered. Still calculated; that was in his nature, just not swift anymore. He too was tall, if not just a few inches shorter than Magnus, but where Magnus was all long limbs and superior magic, Alec was built like a shadowhunter who had spent his life in the training room----which he had. What really drove Magnus crazy however, was the fact that Alec still wore sweaters that did not complement his size. He still looked good, considering he was relatively young enough to pull the look off, but when standing next to his immortal husband it was hard not to see where the years had touched Alec Lightwood. It clenched Rafael's heart to see the change, and hurt even more when he realized one day people would see the contrast between he and Max the same way. 

"Well don't I feel loved." Alec rebutted, finishing up on whatever recipe he'd been working out recently. He reached over Magnus to grab something and for a brief second his dad's eyes met, and both of them smirked a very knowing smile. Maybe when he was younger he could have claimed ignorance, but really, they were shameless. He couldn't help but roll his eyes. 

"So, dad, how was Barcelona?" Rafe asked casually, seating himself at the counter, and picking off small grapes from the bowl set in front of him. Max had already tried to raid Alec's work station for food, but from trial and error Rafe knew this would not work. Only when Alec was done, and deemed his work perfection would they be able to taste it. Resistance was futile. 

"Same as usual. The Spanish vampires have decided Barcelona is there land, and the werewolves came upon the same conclusion but in their own favor, and a trip that should have taken two days to finish, took a week. So, agotador, to say the least Rafe." Magnus replied, looking haggard as he poured himself a drink that looked exceptionally fuchsia. His spanish wasn't bad, but it definitely wasn't good either. This fact however, did not seem to bother him. "I did get to see Tessa and Jem however, who send their incredibly sappy love." He added as an afterthought, earning a chorus of soft laughter from Alec. "You're one to call Jem sappy..." Alec murmured, earning a surprised gasp from Magnus. Entirely theatrical and with no actual hurt, of course, but Magnus was nothing if not all about flair. 

"If you mean to call me a sap, Alexander, know that I am deeply offended. I like to think of myself as a cool casual lover, nothing like our dear Jem." Magnus replied with a hand to his chest as if shocked Alec would even make the accusation he loved as clearly as Jem did. It was true that Jem was as easy to see through as glass when he looked at Tessa, but Rafael had a sneaking suspicion Magnus had actually been worse than that when he and Alec had first gotten together. Alec just turned to look at him, giving him a coy smile and a shrug that said 'sure, whatever you say, babe' that only shook Magnus more. He had opened his mouth to rebut again when Alec said "dinner's ready!" effectively cutting off whatever argument Magnus had constructed. 

Eventually they had all seated themselves in their assigned-but-not-assigned spots, and wolfed down the meal Alec had made with a boyish ferocity. Max and Rafael mainly spoke, as usual, as Alec was always quiet, and Magnus was in a particularly pensive mood at dinner time. Both his parents nodded along at their stories, laughed at the right parts, scolded them where Max (and admittedly himself) needed it, and overall the dinner was just as things had always been between them---easy. He loved talking to his parents, and he knew by the smitten looks on their faces that they loved listening. It was only when they had begun to clean up that they fell into a silence that Rafe took as his opportunity. If anyone had to know, it was Alec. 

"So..." Rafe started, tapping his fingers restlessly on the granite that only Magnus' luxurious taste could have picked out. They all looked at him curiously, and for a second he debated just living in their blissful happy family time and not diving into real world problems. But the real world had problems, and if anyone could fix them it was Alec and Magnus Lightwood-Bane. 

"Did you know they're trying to kick Uncle Jace & Aunt Clary out of the institute?" Rafael finished nervously, gauging for his parents reactions. Alec always took news over Jace exceptionally hard, and sometimes Rafael wondered if he had two brothers rather than one from the way Alec parented Jace so much. But he knew it was a parabati thing impossible to understand unless you had a parabati, which mentally he guessed he did. 

Alec sighed, his broad shoulders dropping ever so slightly as Rafael finished his sentence, and he noticed the pointed gaze Alec gave to Magnus when he thought Rafael must have not been looking. 

"Yeah. That's why I've been in Idris all week, fighting the consul on his relocation plan. They treat Jace like a relic, not like a person, and they want to hand New York down to the Ashdown's who have never walked a city street in their life" Alec sounded haggard on the subject, and Rafael regretted bringing it up at all. Of course Alec knew. Alec was a consul representative, even if he was mainly in downworlder relations. He'd have found out from the consul, or his parabati, or literally anyone who looked at Alec Lightwood like a war hero. Which Rafael guessed he was, but to Rafe he was just dad. There was once a time when his dad would make every effort to keep Rafael out of the worries of the clave, but now that Rafael and his brother were very much apart of this, they acted as a sort of consultant now. Like Lily, Maia, and Alec just easier to delegate. 

"Do you think they'll actually do it? I mean, will Jace go?" Max asked from where he was perched on the couch, his little black-blue hair standing up at all ends from where he had run a hand through it. He looked impossibly young then, and Rafael could not help but think of the boy who called him 'Rafey' when he was scared. 

"I think Jace will put up a fight, but there's only so much you can do to deter the consul." Alec responded, Magnus bringing a comforting hand to rub on Alec's back in support. Unconsciously Alec moved to touch his parabati bond, as if Jace were speaking to him through it. 

"I mean, it's Uncle Jace though. Can't he just... say no?" Rafael questioned, shocked that anyone---even the consul could make Jace do something he didn't want to do. 

"He's trying, but out best course of action now is to show that Jace is imperative to the New York Institute's success, Clary too." Alec replied.

"Well, they are."

"I know that, now it's just a matter of proving it." Alec's phone buzzed then, breaking their stalemate impromptu consul meeting, and after a quick read-through Alec was walking the length of the room and grabbing his leather jacket from where it hung on the couch. "Duty calls." He announced, kissing Magnus briefly but passionately, and ruffling his son's hair as he passed. Magnus made a whiny sound in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes when Alec shrugged. 

"Alexander, can't someone else save the world this time? I had special plans for our first night back together." He pouted then, and Rafe's own phone rang out that he was needed---as if mocking Magnus' plea. Rafael jumped up, shooting a contrite look to his warlock father. Max had that same pained expression Magnus held, only years younger on his wide blue face. "No it's fine, I'll just hang back here and... watch TV while my family is out having all the fun." He grumbled, earning a laugh from Alec, who had reached the door now. 

"I love you too, Maxie. You get into enough trouble just sitting on that couch." He quipped, turning the handle just as Magnus spoke. "Alexander? Do be careful, I quite like having my husband in one piece." His voice was dotted with humor, but his eyes were wide and sad---the way they always looked when Alec had to attend to shadowhunter business. Alec however seemed unfazed by his imploring gaze. 

"I always am, my love." He replied easily, hoisting his bow and arrow onto his shoulder, and smiling brightly, as alive as always when a hunt was involved. He only ever used the phrase 'my love' in the privacy of his own home, and when he was trying to make Magnus complacent with something he clearly disagreed with. For example, Alec's profession. 

"Rafe, I'll walk you out?" He asked and Rafe nodded, following his dad out of the apartment. 

"Bye dad, bye Maxie!" Rafe called, letting the door shut behind him but not before he heard a faint 'hmrph' from his brother. Together he and Alec exited the building, parting at the bottom steps as Rafe had to go to the Institute first, and Alec was off doing whatever it was dads did in their spare time. Probably browse old bookstores for bad dad-jokes to use in the future. 

"I'll see you tomorrow Rafe? I planned on stopping by to see how Jace is doing, what do you say to a little sparring?" Alec asked as he began to backpedal towards the opposite end. He looked like a child then, all excitement and sharp edges and Rafe couldn't help but let the embarrassing smile on his face blossom. His dad could be such a dork. 

"If you want to lose that bad, old man, bring it!" And with that Alec was off with a soft laugh and the hard patter of boots on pavement. 

 

A/N: hello and thank you for the support!!! Next chapter is when shit hits the metaphorical fan and i will cry but thats a problem for FUTURE EFIJOD. Let me know what you think! Any ships you'd like to see/character cameos/flashbacks, let me know!! Thanks angels! xx


	3. the descent into hell is easy

When Rafael reached the institute steps, he was immediately met by three strikingly similar figures. Leah stood closest to him, facing the other way as she wrapped some tight gauze around her brother Matthew's wrist. She had her long brown hair down her back in a rushed braid, her kindjal at her side. She was saying something that Matthew was nodding along to, but knowing Matt for long enough to notice the dreamy look in his eyes, Rafe knew he wasn't listening. Being fifteen he was rarely taken on missions with Leah and him, but when he did come he was usually bouncing with excitement. Excitement that usually meant a lack of focus. 

Lucas was the last of the trio and he of course stood a few feet away, barely sparing Rafe a glance as he strode up. He looked almost like a shadow in his own regard with the amount of black he had on, his face barely visible underneath his mop of black hair. "Can we go now?" He asked in a disgruntled tone, jumping down from his seat on one of the higher steps and walking without looking back. 

"Yeah no, don't wait for any of us, or anything." Leah shouted after him, shaking her head in disbelief. "This'll be fun." Leah whispered quieter this time, to Rafael, sarcasm dripping from her every syllable. Matthew had taken this lapse in attention to break away from his sister, trailing after Lucas like a puppy. Leah however waited for Rafael to actually reach their congregation before following her siblings.

"Come on Rafe, Le!" Matthew called excitedly, running to catch up with his brother who was already some great distance ahead, his dark black hair nearly invisible in the fog. Leah gave Rafael a knowing look, and trailed after Matthew, sprinting to catch up with him in a few short paces. She slung one lazy arm around his shoulders which he did not shrug off, just matched pace with Leah and continued on happily. 

According to the text, the demon sightings were not far off, a routine escapade meaning they could probably be done within the hour. Rafe could go back home in the same night, stop Max from sulking too much, or beat Magnus at whatever crappy game his child-like heart desired. Alec would be back by midnight, and thus the family would be complete after such an abrupt ending. The thought inspired him, and therefore he too ran to catch up with his posse.

They ended up just outside of some dingy diner when Rafael first smelled the sulfur. It was damp, the fog condensing the air around him so he couldn't really get a good grasp on which direction it was coming from, but they were definitely closer than before. Leah's ruby pendant had lit up as if agreeing with Rafael's mind, and Leah jokingly called out "Marco!" as if the demons would give up hiding just to shout "Polo!" 

The diner they stopped in front of had glass-paneled doorways that looked to be kicked in, the windows to the shop blown away in what looked like a post-apocalyptic scene. It was clear the place had been abandoned about for years, giving Rafael a brighter outlook on the dull setting. No mundanes meant no additional stress about being spotted, or having to come up with a cover story, or even glamour himself into oblivion. This was a shadowhunters dream fight; like cage boxing but weaponized. 

"I think the best plan of attack is to just stand here like idiots and look at the building instead of going inside, and doing our job." Lucas said icily, meeting Leah's eye-line as he said it. She had just come up to stand next to Rafael, the last of their group to emerge and yet still she was being singled out by Luke. She narrowed her own eyes at Lucas, as if the movement itself were enough of a come-back. 

"Or we could stand here and a make passive aggressive remarks to each other that will no doubt end in more fighting." Rafael retorted, driving his attention away from Lucas as he could already picture the sour look he was no doubt giving him. Rafael rarely baited Luke back but really? Right now he was going to start something as they stood with weapons brandished for a fight? 

Rafael took the first step forward, the shattered glass in front of them cracking beneath his boots. Slowly he drew out his seraph blade, mumbling softly "Eremiel" as he did and letting the flames from the blade light his way. He had just made it to the door, one slender hand on the knob when he heard the great cry cut through the air like a knife. 

Instantly he sprang into action, flinging the door open and rushing the once-was restaurant. The front room was empty save for the shadowhunters and Rafael continued to barrel for the only door visible, which he guessed was the kitchen. That scream was not a demon's---no it had far too much emotion. It was gruffer, and dense, and if Rafael was a betting man he'd say a werewolf. A werewolf who had clearly been forced to endure great pain. 

"Luke, take the back, Leah flank my left, Matt watch our backs." Rafael instructed, pausing just in front of the wide double doors. He could hear commotion, some whimpering, some flailing and a lot of objects breaking. If Luke could circle around fast enough maybe they'd have a chance at helping that poor werewolf before the demon finished him, but if Rafael attacked too quickly he knew it would be all over. 

"On my mark." He mouthed to Leah and Matthew, both of them nodding in understanding. He could only say a quick prayer that Lucas was where he should be when he burst through the doors, seraph blade in hand and Leah on his left---just as they'd practiced a million times. Lucas was nowhere to be seen, but in one short swipe, with Leah starting from the other end they had decimated the demon into a small pile of ash. Just where the black dust scattered, a black-and-blue face could be seen, blood muting all other noticeable features. From what Rafael could tell, he was a male, and probably about mid-twenties, and with his eyes closed it looked almost peaceful, like he had volunteer to lie shock-still in a puddle of red. But judging from the shallow breathing and harsh crimson stains on his clothes and skin, Rafael knew it was just a trick of light. 

"Matt, can you---" Rafael started, when another piercing scream cut through. This time it was unmistakably human, and the voice that shouted undeniably Lucas'. "Leah!" He screamed, and Leah was gone from Rafe's side in an instant. Helplessly Rafael was holding the head of the werewolf tenderly, knowing he had to follow his best friend, but torn between helping the bloodied boy. If he left, the werewolf would die---and if he didn't it was possible Leah and Lucas would take his place. He motioned desperately for Matthew to come over---soft, gentle Matthew who would be good hands to place the werewolf in, and just as he was assured Matt had it covered, Rafael followed Leah's lead out. 

Upon exiting the diner, Rafael felt he had entered some sort of hellish nightmare. Demons were scattered everywhere, all long gnawing teeth and great big talons. Lucas stood in the center, swiping at them with his great staff, a pile of black ash and dust surrounding him, thus claiming victory. He had a long gash, just above his right eyebrow that was bleeding profusely, and his clothes were mattered in both ichor and crimson, and yet still he was fighting as if unfazed. Leah stood apart from him, using her kindjals to pierce through the crowd and to her brother, but just as one disintegrated in front of her, another would appear, making her progress rather slim. She swore loudly, but Rafe's vision of his friend was clouded as a towering shadow descended upon Rafael. Training kicked in and with some well placed kicks Rafael had the demon knocked down before he swung, killing the demon. Others swarmed him but the adrenaline in his blood was too great and he took everything in stride; like they weren't completely out-numbered. 

He had only begun to feel the soft pin-prick of panic when three demons approached him together.

Suddenly the demon in front of Rafe vaporized before he could even swing his blade, and when he turned to face his next opponent---the same thing happened again. He stood in momentary shock, wondering if maybe some weird magic was at play until he noticed the the steal-tipped arrows poking out of the ash. Around him the demons were dying as soon as their ugly heads were visible, and just before every hellish cry Rafael could see something reflective flying through the air with practiced precision. Alec, he thought instantly. But what was Alec doing here?

After a few well placed shots everything simmered down, the concrete covered in a fine layer of ash, and enough arrows littering the ground to make Robin Hood cry. Leah had reached Lucas who was kneeling on the ground, gripping his forearm tightly. His cuts looked superficial, and other than his eyebrow seemed to be fine. Rafael only gave them a sparring glance before turning every which way to find where the arrows had come. A futile search, as the culprit was already purposefully striding towards Rafael. 

"Rafe." Alec breathed, finishing the few steps it took to close the space between them and hugging Rafael so tight that the younger boy had trouble breathing. He had to admit he was glad his dad had saved them, there were far too many demons for the three of them to take on solo. They needed an archer in the shadows, and there was no better marksman than his father. And yet still Rafael felt like such a kid for needing his dad to save him. He was an of-age shadowhunter, and he couldn't even finish a mission without help from his legendary dad. 

He pushed off gently, saying "I'm fine, dad, really." in a low tone. Alec reluctantly stepped back, smiling down at Rafe regardless with such worry in his eyes that Rafael almost forgot for a second that it was Alec who was out of place. 

"What are you doing here anyway?" Rafael questioned aloud, as Alec bent to pick up an arrow that was lying just by his feet. 

"Maia texted me at dinner and said she caught wind of that missing werewolf she'd been worried about. I checked the spot she said, and nothing came up except a trail leading out, so I followed it to here. By the time I got here you were neck deep in demons---and speaking of which, Leah, Lucas, are you okay?" He called, making his last sentence loud enough to include the Lightwood-Lovelace's in the conversation. Leah shot a thumbs up, not turning to stop her careful rune-tracing on Lucas' skin, and Luke just replied a hoarse "peachy" that Alec chuckled at. 

Rafael turned his head to look at the diner, wondering how Matt and the lyncanthrope were doing. Matthew was a pretty altruistic guy, and having both Lucas and Leah as siblings had to be pretty crafty at handling wounds. They were fine, Rafael was sure of it. "Well the werewolf is inside if you can help us, he's badly hurt..." But the last few words of Rafael's sentence were lost even to him as both Leah and Lucas shouted loud enough to shatter his ear drums. Distantly he was aware of what they were saying, knowing that the words made sense but his comprehension of them did not. There were no more 'demons' around, and Alec? Alec was standing right in front of him. But as he turned to see the product of their commotion, his dad's body moved in a whirlwind of motion, propelling Rafael to the side and badly scraping his elbows upon impact. Through fazed eyes Rafael could see the scene unfold, and the impossible happen. Alec had knocked Rafael out of the way because a demon had appeared. Larger then most and with great, long, pointed talons. Talons that were now chest-deep in Alec's skin. 

"DAD!" Rafael wailed. He was screaming, although his voice was far too hoarse for even himself to comprehend. He had propelled up, seraph blade in hand and with one fell swoop the demon was reduced to nothing. Falling just as Alec Lightwood did. Rafael himself had dropped to his knees, shaking hands covering every inch of his father's bruised skin. He looked horrible. Sweat on his forehead that spoke of sickness, rickety shaking coursing through him as if possessed, and his limbs spread out all at awkward angles. 

He moved his dads neck to the side, exposing the skin there and drawing iratze after iratze that just faded into oblivion upon placement. "DAD!" He was screaming, thick tears falling from his face freely and onto the cold cheeks of his father. This wasn't happening... 

Alec's head lay in Rafael's lap, almost how Alec used to hold Rafe when he was a child, but with far more desperation in the motion. Alec's face was blank of any emotion, a foreign look on his usually animated face, and Rafael was gripping at his stele so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, eventually throwing the damned thing away as it did nothing to heal the man before him. 

This wasn't happening!

As of now Alec's eyes were closed, but with a soft flicker of dark eyelashes, Alec's wide blue eyes were staring up at him again. His hand, pale white and trembling rose ever so slightly to trace Rafael's cheek. It was there for a second, and then fell limply, like the weight of it was just too much for him. It looked like he moved to say something, crimson-painted lips parting, but it was clear now that the demon had hit his lungs, and Alec's mouth was uncontrollably filling with blood. He looked sad then, and small. Smaller than he had ever been before. 

THIS WASN'T HAPPENING. 

"DAD!" Rafael was sobbing now, and he could vaguely see where Leah and Lucas had appeared and started tracing runes on his father as well, coming to the same conclusion that Rafe had moments ago about the futility of steles. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew Alec would be alright. His dad was basically invincible based on the stories he used to tell, and one demon would not be the end of Alec Lightwood. Especially a demon meant for Rafe. "CALL MAGNUS." He shouted at no one in particular, sounding both strong and very, very weak at the same time. Now Rafael's hands had moved to the point of impact, his calloused hands pressing down on the deep cuts that littered Alec's stomach. Keep pressure to the wound, he had once heard. Keep the blood in, save a few minutes. Magnus could portal anywhere and if Rafael could just do this one LITTLE thing then Magnus would make every thing alright again. Magnus would save Alec, and Rafael would apologize once his father gained consciousness again. They'd joke about how worried Rafe had been, and in a week Alec would be on his feet and making waffles or something for breakfast with a big, dopey smile on his face. 

He wasn't sure when it registered, but Rafael knew he saw the exact moment that the life left Alexander Lightwood. Suddenly those crystal clear blue eyes went hazy, and he saw without truly seeing as his head lolled to the side. His body was still, too still to be resting and regardless of the fact that Rafael could no longer feel a pulse he still felt his coarse lungs calling out for Alec. This was all wrong! This wasn't---couldn't be real. Alec had never been here, and Rafael had been taken down by a demon. That's what happened, and this burning in his chest was just a farce and it was Rafe who was dead, not Alec. Rafael had died valiantly, not lived at the expense of the man who raised him. That would be cruel and unjust---even for this world. 

But when he opened his eyes, and saw his own tanned hands on Alec's unnaturally pale body, he knew that he did not get what he wished for. 

Alec was truly dead. 

 

A/N: yike with a double side of oops. I apologize for everything I've ever done because Alec is my smol son but he is a shadowhunter and they die young and i thrive on angst. Let me know any thoughts/comments/concerns and I will hopefully update soon!


	4. the fall

“Well Maxie, looks like it’s just you and me.” Magnus had said once the door had closed behind their shadowhunters. Magnus did his best to look eccentric but Max visibly saw how his shoulders deflated when Alec left. It was both charming and saddening to see how much Magnus relied on Alec’s presence. 

Max shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back on the velvet couch and closing his eyes meditatively. It sucked that their reunion was cut so short, but Alec and Rafe would be back soon---maybe even within the night. Rafe would come back with his brown eyes shining, drenched in sweat and ichor and proclaiming some triumph story about whatever demons he and Leah had killed. Alec would return with a decidedly less enthusiastic approach--- stashing his unused bow and arrow in the closest in the hall and giving the gist of whatever boring debate he’d mediated between downworlders. Well, sometimes boring. Stories where Lily Chen, head of the New York clan, was involved were exponentially more thrilling. 

“More leftovers for me.” Max responded, letting the weariness of the day drift him off into a peaceful sleep but non-sleep. He’d spent most of the day preforming petty rituals for small fees that Magnus claimed would ‘build character’. Really what that meant was ‘busy work until I get home’ and yet even still that mediocre magic had drained him. He didn’t know how Magnus did it---summoning portals and demons left and right, but he never seemed to lose his control. Nor did he ever mention the headaches magic could cause. 

He assumed he’d been ‘asleep’ for about an hour when Magnus’ phone rang loud enough to wake Max. He groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly and listening to the sounds of Magnus bustling out of his office. The ring tone was not the specific set one for Rafe or Alec, so Max turned to the side, threw a pillow over his head and tried to sleep it out. If this was another one of Magnus’ annoying mundane customers…

“High Warlock Hotline, Magnus speaking.” His dad’s voice rang out musically. Max had to wonder whether Magnus had all of these High Warlock jokes written down in some bad-joke book or whether he had just compartmentalized a section of his memory to how he answered the phone. Magnus must have forgotten his second-hook, because instead of some snarky sarcastic answer he took a second to pause and then immediately sucked in a deep breath, as if punched in the gut. Magnus took everything in a stride, so something that could shock the great Magnus Bane had to be important. This revelation spiked Max’s curiosity just enough to peek out from beneath his make-shift fortress. 

“Leah, slow down. Where are you right now?” His voice was low, his eyes downcast, and his hand gripping the phone so tightly Max could have sworn he saw the structure of it breaking. He had never seen Magnus so frantic that he was almost shaking, and it was the least to say Max didn’t like seeing him that way now. “LEAH! Focus, please. I need an exact location. Where is Rafael, is he alright?” Magnus’ voice strained when he said Rafael, and that got Max’s own heart thudding uncomfortably. Had Rafe been hurt? Was that why Magnus had gone so pale white? If this was about Rafael, and he was somehow hurt Max didn’t think he would be able to breath. What was he doing while Rafe was out risking his life? Sitting on the couch, sleeping? What would they tell Alec who was god knows where and who loved Rafael so much?

“Dad what’s going on…” Max asked cautiously, leaving his spot on the couch to approach Magnus hesitantly. Magnus was uncharacteristically uncensored, his cat eye’s wild with fear. Magnus liked to hold himself together, keep his emotions in check and genuinely seem disinterested in things that did not directly concern him---but right now all of that was shot to hell. Max could visibly see his father’s knees wobbling, and his magic erupt from his fingertips in short, erratic spurts. 

Magnus didn’t seem to hear him, just dropped the phone, gave a wave of his hands and created a portal. It was powerful, and Max had to dig his feet in to not be blown away. The only signal that Magnus had even remembered Max was there was a curt “stay here” when he took his first shaky step towards the portal, but that would not suffice for Max. If this was about Rafael, then Max was not staying behind. His father barreled into the portal and Max followed so close he could smell the faint traces of Magnus’ cologne, and when his headache started to dim the scene he had arrived at finally got some clarity. 

He was standing in what looked like the setting of some cliché 90’s horror movie, right down to the flickering light from some shady lamp post down the street. The place looked dusty and unkempt since before the dawn of time, and if Max really focused he could have sworn there was a thick scent of blood in the air. Scratch that, there was definitely blood in the air. Distantly he was aware that his legs were moving in the direction he’d seen Magnus jet off to, but his mind had not registered that yet. 

There, in the distance and barely silhouetted in the darkness, was Rafael. Max’s heart sang sweetly as he began to run because Rafe was okay! He was alive, and breathing and… laying over something? As Max neared and he could see more, he noticed a distinct crimson line tracing Rafael’s cheek, and Rafael himself was bent over a tall, dark form that Magnus had now reached. Rafael was crying something heart broken, and just as Max reached out to comfort his brother, he saw just exactly whose body Rafael had been strewn across. 

Alec. 

His pale face---usually highlighted by the red Magnus could pool in them, was slack. His blue eyes looked wistfully up and at none of them, staring off and into something no living person could see. His mouth was neutral---not scowling as he did when he lost a fight, and not smiling as he did when he saw Magnus. In fact---his entire face which was usually so passionate was devoid of any emotion. And that’s kind of how Max’s chest felt right now---empty. 

That was his dad with a bloodied chest. The man who named him, and played with him, and loved him unconditionally far more than Max deserved. He dropped to his knees, the impact a dull thud in the back of his mind and he could hear Magnus calling out for his husband. “NO!” he was screaming, and Max couldn’t take the pain anymore. He let the tears fall freely now, and he grabbed Alec’s cold hand, praying to anyone that was listening that he’d find a pulse. 

“Alexander, wake up please,” Magnus was pleading now, his magic encompassing Alec’s whole form in a blue haze but nothing changed. Not an eyelash on his face moved, he just lay there staring up to the heavens. 

“Dad?” Max asked, gripping the large cold hand of his father tighter. Maybe Magnus’ desperation was the wrong approach, and that Max could gently coax Alec out of this coma. Max let his magic creep down through his arms to his dad’s finger tips, but where they should have collided, Max’s magic hit a brick wall. You couldn’t heal something inanimate. Alec was truly dead. 

People had started arriving---shadowhunters he assumed but all of that was just white noise to Max. They screamed, or cried, or cursed but they knew nothing of pain. They hadn’t been taught archery by this man. They hadn’t begrudgingly choked down burnt pancakes to make this man feel better. They didn’t know the difference between Alec’s polite smile and his genuine one. 

“Dad, please…” Max tried again, and next to him Rafe pushed up. Through his own tear-stained eyes he could tell Rafael was crying, but regardless he still walked away. A few steps at first, a sad look back towards the congregation, and then a few more. Like he couldn’t get enough space. “Rafe.” Max called, but as it left his lips he knew it was nothing more than a whisper. Rafael was too far to hear him. Even Alec who was just inches from the blue warlock could not hear him. Max was starting to feel muted. 

Magnus was still trying to pour magic into his husband when the officials arrived. They said something about taking the body back to the city of bones---where they take dead shadowhunters and Max wanted to argue. He didn’t belong there, he belonged here with the people he loved and who loved him back. He belonged in that big lazy-boy couch Magnus had, reading some boring book and smiling softly to himself as if in on some private joke. He belonged at their family breakfasts, and their Christmas celebrations, all of which he would never attend again. 

Max didn’t know when or how he got up. All he knew was that now Jace, Isabelle, Clary, and Simon had arrived and at their screams it was far too much to take. Magnus had wrapped him so tightly in a hug Max felt as if he couldn’t breathe. And right now? He frankly didn’t want to. 

A/N: this was so much shorter I apologize!! Also apologies for the lag school/work is #reking me but I will try to update soon! I'm working on the next chapter for DAFE (another one of my works in progress: Descensus Averno Facilis Est) and then I shall update! Sorry for the sadness I hate everything about this too


End file.
